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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833380">Hands Touching Hands</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragoon811/pseuds/dragoon811'>dragoon811</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Complete, Extended War, F/M, Snape smokes, Stargazing, Stolen Moments, wherein Snape wears old band shirts and no one says shit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:16:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>461</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833380</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragoon811/pseuds/dragoon811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A private moment between two would-be lovers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>149</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hands Touching Hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The car shuddered to a halt halfway down the muddy lane in the old cow pen. The headlights clicked off and the driver waited in the cab for long minutes. </p>
<p>Soon, their eyes adjusted to the darkness of the field. The city lights, long lost in the distance, meant nothing. The roads were either unlit or far enough away not to matter. </p>
<p>Stars shown through the wispy clouds, the moon a hazy crescent overhead. </p>
<p>The only new light now came the glow of his cigarette. The door of the car slammed shut and he clambered onto the hood, resting his back against the cool glass of the windshield. </p>
<p>A quiet pop of Apparition, and the rustle of over-long grass.</p>
<p>“Sorry I’m late.” Her voice was quiet and warm with happiness. </p>
<p>“You’re not.” The cigarette end glowed brightly as he took one last drag before flicking it away. It hissed, landing in a stagnant puddle of old rainfall. </p>
<p>She made a disapproving sound but climbed up next to him, his long lean form dwarfing her smaller, curvy one. He reached for her hand between them, squeezing it gently before tracing her knuckles with his thumb. </p>
<p>“How’s Hogwarts?”</p>
<p>He sighed. “The same. An absolute hellhole.”</p>
<p>She moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder. The breeze shifted her curls, tickling his nose. He didn’t care. This contact was everything. </p>
<p>“How are...things?” He didn’t voice them. He didn’t need to. Shouldn’t. </p>
<p>“The same,” she replied quietly. “I keep hoping that next week, next month, next <i>year</i> we might find something, anything to help. But we haven’t.”</p>
<p>He nodded, awkward against the glass, but it was the only response he could give her. They both watched the clouds, waiting. </p>
<p>She smelled as she always did to him. Old books, sweat, and whatever shampoo it was she used. He liked it. These stolen moments fortified him like nothing else. </p>
<p>She never said anything about his attire on nights like this - old, faded, shirts and too-large denims - or about the car that had seen better days. Instead, she traced his exposed arm with her free hand, memorizing the curve of each muscle, the feel of each hair. </p>
<p>“Are you safe?” she asked. </p>
<p>He snorted. “Are you?”</p>
<p>She didn’t answer. </p>
<p>The meteors started then and they watched in rapt silence, each making countless fervent wishes. </p>
<p>The war over. </p>
<p>Voldemort defeated. </p>
<p>Harry triumphant. </p>
<p>For him, freedom from his roles, his cage of his own making. </p>
<p>For her, a twenty-third birthday with no evil wizards. </p>
<p>For these moments to become more than moments. </p>
<p>For their fledgling love to burst into full feather and fly as high as the stars they watched streak through the sky. </p>
<p>Her fingers tightened in his and he returned the gesture. </p>
<p>Their own private kiss.</p>
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